Shattered Mirror
by AtramentousAile
Summary: A story about Chris. How he has suffered and what he has done to survive. To fix the future Chris risked it all travelling to the past. But what if someone else came with him? In the past see the two sides of Chris, the leader and the murderer.
1. Twisted Mirror

It appeared on the wall directly across from him. He noticed it immediately, the foreign magic making itself known to him within his home and a slight smile spread across his lips. Nothing interesting had happened in weeks. The resistance was basically nonexistent and what remained of the elders were still stuck in their non interference ways of the past, _the cowardly fools_. Yes, he needed something to entertain him. So with welcoming arms he turned to look at the blue portal expecting a guest to step through any second.

He was caught off guard, instead of someone stepping through, the portal began to expand. Growing bigger and bigger the portal began to draw him closer. It was meant for him. For a second he entertained the idea of breaking free, a simple matter, but he _was _bored. A little chaos was exactly what he needed. So with no reservations he gracefully stepped into the portal. With only the smallest of smirks playing on his lips giving away his anticipation.

Instantly he recognized the magic as soon as he touched it. He had played with every magic available to him. Time travel. Wherever this portal was sending him wasn't only a where but more of a when.

_The future would be an interesting place to visit.  
_  
Thoughts of seeing how the world shaped by him would look in a couple years began dancing in his mind. _Was he still alive in the future? _A silly thought. It didn't matter if he was alive or dead anymore. There was no one else that mattered left alive now. He was all that was left. He tried to brush off his train of thoughts but they continued to drift in a direction he knew they were heading.

Henry. Henry and Prue. He could check on them, they were still alive now. But what would be the point? Hate like that doesn't disappear in a single lifetime. No, either he was dead, or they were. He was surprised they had made it this far without killing each other. Yet he knew why, the one rule that even he still bowed to, _you don't kill family.  
_  
_But how long will that last? _In the future nothing was certain, not even family.

When the portal finally began to spit him out he still managed to keep his bearings and landed smoothly, in the middle of the road. Luckily he appeared to be in a residential area so no cars immediately crushed him. Deciding not to chance his already dismal luck he started leisurely walking to the side of the road.

Brushing off invisible dust from his jacket he began to take in his surroundings. Starting with the sun, the blinding sun that he hadn't seen in years. The light radiating off it painting the world with a soft glow. Then he noticed the air, the soft air that greeted his lungs like an old friend. He took a deep breath to appreciate the richness that surrounded him. And then his eyes were drawn upwards to face something from his nightmares.

The manor, still intact, was standing right before him in all it's glory. He had to shake his head to stifle a laugh. He knew where he was. He was in the past.

A slight urge filled him to orb to the attic and greet his would be family. Which he promptly brushed away. He had no idea exactly when he was, if he was even born yet. So he settled on stealth. Quickly turning invisible he walked to the side of the manor. Thankfully the girls still hadn't learned the value of locking their windows.

Although he found squeezing though a window quite demeaning it was defiantly less suspicious than a door randomly opening and closing. Or orbs appearing with no body for that matter. However luck seemed to be on his side today, for once, no one was around.

With bated breath he looked around his old home. There were baby toys scattered across the floor but not very many pictures of kids. Along with the furniture the house looked to be from around twenty years ago. Deciding it would be a good idea to find out exactly what he was walking into he started heading towards the attic. Where he might find the girls or the remnants of some potion which would tell him what they were hunting this time.

As soon as he entered the attic he recognized exactly when he was. He was starring at a titan. But even as he realized the true implications of him being in this time he was still able to keep his composure. That is until he turned his head and saw another him. He recognized him instantly, not by his appearance but by his magic. Over the years he had developed his sensing power relentlessly and that man's magic was so distinctly him it could only be himself.

The next few moments flew by in an amusing blur. The other him altered time and introduced himself as Chris Perry. It was almost ironic to watch another future him talk to past versions of his family. Chris Perry hinted at an interesting future that he supposedly came from. However Chris knew himself well enough to tell when he was lying. But It was obvious that Chris wasn't from the same future he was from. For one thing he would never wear those shoes. So that left the question, _Where was he from?_

As he continued to observe Chris he noticed other differences in areas other than just their shoes.

That Chris had short mousy brown hair and almost ghostly pale skin, probably from too much time underground or in a future without sun like his own. In his own future there was no sun either but he spent a significant amount of time in the underworld to the point he had developed a slight tan from all the fire. Different still, his own hair fell lazily to his shoulders and was a coal black, the result of one too many explosive potions.

The differences continued in their clothes. Wearing a red shirt, light brown jacket, and blue jeans, Chris looked like a regular person off the street. His own attire stood out a bit more. With a lot more black and a look that expressed it's finer quality he looked more like an exotic animal that had some how found its way into the city.

However he found the biggest differences were in their faces. Chris looked beaten, tired, yet with hope and determination still in the corner of his eyes. He had a look of a leader, someone with the world on his shoulders. His jade eyes guarded and firm but burning with a passion for a set goal, while still haunted with something unsaid.

His own face was no where near as warm. No emotions played on his features, he held a look of pure malice. His dull green eyes were like ice, revealing nothing to his enemies. Exhaustion was the only thing that slightly mirrored the other Chris, but to an unnoticeable amount. He didn't have the look of a leader but of a dictator and a murderer. _As it should, because that is what I am. _He looked cold and unmoving, with a hint of insanity behind his ruthless exterior.

Their only similarity was their figure. Both lean and seemingly underfed yet with carefully toned muscles hidden beneath each of their clothes. That and the odd familiarity between the two was the only clue that they were the same person. He assured himself that no one other than himself would connect the two.

He was drawn out of his thoughts when another person entered the room. Her figure slightly surprising him.

_So that's Piper, the mother I never knew._

She instantly began arguing with the other Chris which struck him as a little tragic and he began wondering what the other Chris must be thinking. Then all of his thoughts were pushed to the side. When _That Man _orbed in and the room began to spin. He allowed his hatred to bubble to the surface for five seconds. Five seconds later he was starring at Leo, the man he had killed, with a cold look in his eyes that said he was considering killing him twice.

He quickly shook off his murderous thoughts with vicious discipline, he was having too much fun to expose himself now. Finally tearing his eyes away from Leo he looked at the one person his eyes had been avoiding. Phoebe. She looked so young, so happy, that a small smile found its way onto his face. Which he quickly smothered and decided to begin separating these people from the ones he knew. Which, in a way, would probably save Leo's life if he ever came in contact with him again. Not that he cared what happened to the man.

As the girls and Leo began running downstairs he switched his focus back to the other him. _What is his plan? _And he did have a plan, he knew himself too well to underestimate him. Chris walked to the book of shadows and began flipping through the pages. Following Chris he noticed how different the book of shadows looked in this time and began to wonder if it would still accept him._ Had he changed too much?_

He reached out and touched the page Chris had momentarily stopped at. When nothing happened he released a breath he didn't know he had been holding as he momentarily relaxed. Running a hand through his hair he scolded himself. _Get a grip! You've been in the past less than a day and your already loosing it.  
_  
Visibly seeing the results of him slamming down his walls he realized just how rattled he was. Taking a glace at the other him he pieced together the beginnings of his plan. His other self had come to this time for a reason. He was using the titans as an excuse to make a spot for himself, getting rid of Leo at the same time. He had to admit it was a good plan. If only he knew why. _Why was his other self going through all this trouble?  
_  
Figuring he had enough to go on for the moment, and not wanting to risk snapping in front of himself just yet, he turned and walked out of the attic.

With all the confusion downstairs, the threat of the titans and all, he easily made it out of the house unnoticed. Standing outside the manor he finally released his invisibility and began planning his next move. First things first, he needed a base of operations.

* * *

Wow. First story turns out to be a Chris fic. Who would have guessed? Anyways thank-you to everyone who read my first attempt at a successful fanfic. I hope it wasn't too terrible. ^^'


	2. Differences

Disclaimer: I don't own Charmed or any of it's characters. There I said it, you happy?

A/N: Hello Everyone! ^^ Ok, I just wanted to get one thing out of the way before we begin this chapter. I wanted to address the situation of Chris's powers. I did not just magically give him more powers. In my version of the future Chris had a much harder life and growing up he had to use his powers a lot more. Thus his powers have developed a lot further than the Chris's in cannon. You have to remember Chris comes from a very powerful family and if he really worked at it he could be one of the most powerful witches alive. I will slowly reveal which powers Chris has and why I have given them to him. With that, on to the Chapter!

* * *

Chris marveled at the new world he had stumbled into as he walked down the familiar streets. Everything looked so new and clean. With the fresh air and sun even the wildlife seemed to swell with vitality. Despite the loud sounds of the city he could hear birds in the sky, and as he walked by a park he could see it overflowing with life. Even the city itself seemed to be flourishing. The buildings stood tall and intact and the bridge, his bridge, was still standing proudly. However, ignoring all the wonderful things around them, the people still looked the same. Tired and unaware they busily scurried around like all they cared about was themselves. There was only one difference in the crowds that swarmed him, there were barely any demons around. Sensing he could only feel the odd demon here and there and knew the rest of the city was the same.

Then he remembered why, something that seemed so far away like it had never happened, it was because the demons here still lived in fear in the underground. In his world the demons lived above ground, but they still lived in fear. Not of humans or good witches, but of Chris. In his world demons thrived. They were free to walk the earth and were unafraid of almost all the fighters of the light that were left. They were unafraid because of Chris. They thrived because of Chris. He was the perfect leader. Nothing could touch him and nothing surprised him. All the demons on Chris's side prospered. However anyone who stood against him was swiftly destroyed. Anyone who even hinted at rebellion would suffer a quick and untimely death. No demon would do anything till Chris told them they could or risk extermination. Yet this world was different, none of that had happened, and the demons hadn't learned to fear him yet.

He had no idea why he had been pulled into the past but he wasn't going to let a chance like this slip through his fingers. Not that he didn't like the future he came from so he couldn't do anything _too_ extreme, but here was a whole new world for him to play with and he wasn't about to waste it. His world would have to get along without him, and besides it would be fun to let them squirm on their own for a while.

Finally settling his mind on the task he had set out to do he began thinking of a way he could get himself a place to stay for a while. Unfortunately he had none of his resources that he had become accustom to from his future. That, and the fact that he didn't really exist in this world, only left him with less than legal means to procure a place for him to stay. However the moral implications didn't even occur to him as he began sensing for the nearest high level demon in the area.

When he finally found one that matched his necessary specifications he immediately orbed to an alley in the nearby area. He then swiftly walked around the corner and into the skyscraper to his right as if he was any other person heading to work. Blending into the crowds he began looking for his target. In all the mess of people that surrounded him he was surprised to spot the demon he was after so quickly. The most smug looking guy wearing a suit in the room was the demon he had sensed. It occurred to him that most upper level demons probably looked like that most of the time, so sure of their power, like nothing in the world could touch them. He couldn't help but compare him to the demons from his time, that only dared to show absolute loyalty while in his presence. Of course there were hints of other emotions, like admiration or fear, but never arrogance. Every demon in his time knew who was the strongest.

After five minutes of stocking his prey Chris finally saw the demon go into a room alone. _Pathetic demon, not even able to tell when he's being followed_. Quickly finding a spot where no one could see him he briskly orbed in after the demon. Chris, aiming his landing, appeared right behind where he sensed the demon. Before the demon even had a chance to react to his presence Chris promptly snapped his neck with a loud crack that vibrated through the air. He then watched as the lifeless body slumped to the floor and returned to its demon form.

Chris almost sighed at how easy that had been, then knelt beside the now lifeless body. _Demons in this time are so feeble its pitiful._ Luckily he didn't recognize the body so he knew he hadn't just killed anyone too important. In a clipped and uninterested gesture he reached into the demon's pocket and pulled out it's wallet. Standing up he walked over to the desk and almost as an after thought he waved his hand and the body disappeared into somewhere at the bottom of the river.

In less than thirty minutes he had completely assumed the demon's identity and now owned the flat down the street. In his mind he double checked that he had left nothing out and was assured no one would be suspicious of him. He even had a SIN number and a high school diploma that he could use if he needed. Satisfied that he had properly covered his tracks, he orbed down the street, not wanting to waste anytime settling in.

When he rematerialised he immediately threw his coat onto the coach in front of him. He had forgotten how warm San Francisco used to be and his coat was effectively roasting him alive. In his future it barely ever got above ten degrees Celsius, so all of his clothes were enchanted to be warm while still allowing him enough movement to react to any situation. In his time they were a life saver, here on the other hand they were a hindrance.

Wandering around the apartment he finally found what he had been looking for, the bedroom, where he immediately headed straight for the closet. Rummaging through the now ownerless clothes Chris went through several shirts before he settled on one he approved of. It was a simple black button up shirt and he quickly found a pair of pants to match.

As he tore off his own clothes he couldn't help but look at the scars the marked his body like a map. Over the years he had accumulated quite a collection. Most of them were battle wounds, from when he used to go hunting with Wyatt or during the beginning of the revolution, but some were the distinct marks of torture. Only twice had he been caught well enough for his enemies to have the time to torture him. Once when he was a child and a demon had made a game out of it while his family had no idea where he was. The other was when he was fifteen and had been hunting alone in the first few weeks after Phoebe's death. He wasn't focused, so he was caught off guard by an enemy clan that held him prisoner for two weeks before Wyatt finally broke him out. As he stared at his scars he couldn't help his mind wandering to the days that had shaped him into who he was.

_He was upset._

_It had been two days since he had begun tracking this particular demon clan and he still hadn't found them all. He had caught some leads that said they had helped kill Aunt Paige, even though it had been years since her death. However he was still raw from the pain of Phoebe's death and he wanted revenge, it didn't really matter against who. Being Aunt Paige's murderers was just an excuse, he didn't really care if it was true or not._

_Within days of Phoebe's death he and Wyatt had dealt with all the demons that had even the slightest thing to do with her murder. Death would've been too good for them, so they gave them something far worse, they made sure they would suffer in pain for eternity for their crime. But it wasn't enough. The pain that consumed the brothers was too strong and they needed something else to take their emotions out on._

_Originally Chris and Wyatt had hunted together, but they soon found that it was too slow. By this time they were both strong enough to take care of themselves so they split ways while hunting, which was pretty much all they did. However the real reason why they had decided to go it alone was because they didn't want to begin hating each other. Both of their emotions were too fried and they weren't thinking clearly. Every time they were in a room together they began arguing. They had both been there to avenge Phoebe's death and a few days after, but it had been bloody and seeing your brother kill over and over again had almost driven them both even farther off the edge. At the time Chris believed these were the worst days of his life._

_Still, he had found his own solace in it all. He was alone, no one to hurt him or die because of him. Even killing over and over had found it's own pleasure for him. The satisfaction of believing he had just saved another innocent by killing a demon had gotten him though the first five hundred or so. But even that feeling was numb to him now, in its place he had found new feelings. Ones that didn't mind being covered in blood, even feeling more comfortable while wearing the sticky substance. He didn't hear the sounds of bones crushing or flesh tearing anymore just the warm feeling of accomplishing his task. The blood curdling screams the demons made seconds before dieing were now only reminders of his power. He was strong, they were weak, they deserved to die. Everything had become just a blur of killing, it was everything, it was all he did. He would kill because it was the only thing that stopped him from feeling the pain._

_Killing again and again had changed him, and he wasn't even sure if it was for the worse or better anymore._

_However at this exact moment he didn't care. All that mattered in his mind was his prey. He had finally managed to trap a demon that could tell him where he might find the demons he was after. He had wasted no time in beginning his torture, which he had gotten quite good at in the past few weeks. He had found scrying took too much time and that it was much faster to just torture the nearest demon for information. As long as you promised their own safety demons didn't care what happened to others. The difficult part was convincing them you could hurt them if they didn't give you what you wanted, another thing Chris had gotten considerably better at._

_Usually it took no more than five minutes for Chris to convince a demon to tell him anything he wanted to know. So he had learned to enjoy these five minutes as much as possible. It was the only time he had to regain his breath. To rest before he was running and moving and killing again. It was the only time he could relax, and so torturing had become relaxing to him. It was something that he could take his time with and it was like solving a puzzle to him now. What could he do to make them talk faster? He pulled out one of the many knives he now hid around his body thinking intimately about how he would begin._

_It was his intimacy that cost him. He had been too focused on the next kill. So focused on getting rid of the pain that he hadn't bothered to watch out for himself. It was an energy ball that hit him first. He instinctively twisted away from where he was standing, jumping to the right and at the same time turning to look at his attackers. He paled, over four dozen demons were staring at him like he was their next meal, and they all looked pissed._

_Cursing his luck he readied his arms, noticing the energy ball had landed squarely on his right shoulder, but he couldn't worry about that now. Throwing out his arms he heard several loud cracks echo across the room and watched as fifteen demons crumpled to the floor, their necks broken. At that time several more energy balls and extremely sharp athames were thrown in his direction. Ducking down to reduce his surface area he quickly rolled to his left. Where he promptly sprang back up and redirected the next wave of weapons back at their owners. He wasn't sure how many he hit because at that time he had already begun fighting hand to hand with five or more demons._

_Kicking one in the throat he used the momentum to turn his body and lash out at the two in front of him. It was at that moment he noticed the blood pouring off his arms. He had been keeping his guard up since the moment he had spotted the ambush and without him realizing it it had saved his life. Less than a second passed for Chris to process this information and then he was flinging the two demons in front of him behind him to intercept the path of four energy balls aimed at his back. Turning around, and ignoring the smell of burnt flesh, Chris tried to determine how many demons were left._

"Fuck," _was the only word that escaped his mouth as he surveyed the less than favorable odds._

_Apparently even more demons than he had killed had shimmered in and were already approaching him. There was no way to tell how many were left. More just kept coming and coming. He was fighting a losing battle, and he was already begining to feel his fatigue building. Using four of his knives he finished off six more demons and then was faced with the on coming storm._

_It was twenty minutes later that he had somehow worked his way into a corner. He was covered in blood, some his own, and a lot not. He wasn't sure when but a smile had worked its way onto his face. He was having fun. He might die and everything might end, but he was having fun. A thought occurred to him as he faced the demons, _He wouldn't mind going out like this._ An army as his enemy, covered in blood, and a smile on his face. Life had never been fair with him, why would death? He was outnumbered by dozens, maybe hundreds, and there was no one to call out to. Not even Wyatt could hear him, he was too deep in the underworld and they had cut communication days ago. His death would be bloody and it would be slow._

_He was dead right about the slow part._

_It took another half an hour to finally catch him. He was like a monster and anything that came near him was ripped to shreds. Of course when they finally did catch him he passed out almost immediately. He had been in the underworld for over two days with no sleep hunting constantly with no rest before they attacked him. It was only because of this that they had even considered going after him. After over an hour of intense battle it was a wonder he was still breathing. Even exhausted he had still managed to kill 248 demons by himself._

_Wrapped in enchanted chains he was transported to a differently location. He had no idea where he was being taken and for that matter he was only barely staying conscious. He had probably been unconscious for less than ten minutes before his body had forced him awake. Never opening his eyes or changing his breathing he began to feel his surroundings. His sensing power wasn't that great but it was still better than most. Even an idiot could feel that he was being carried by two demons and guarded by one directly in front of him and one behind him. With a little more effort he was able to tell that at least thirty more demons surrounded him in close proximity. After that he stopped bothering to sense. Thirty demons was too much for him right now. There was nothing he could do but regain his strength. So he closed his eyes and forced himself to rest._

_When he opened his eyes again he wasn't too happy with what he saw. Nothing. The world was pitch black to him. He was wearing a blind fold. Even his sensing power was blocked. He was completely blind. So it was with almost gratitude as he listened to the venomous voice that ripped through the emptiness._

_"I see our guest of honor is finally awake."_

How long have I been asleep? _Ignoring the nagging feeling inside of himself he began trying to find a weakness in his restraints. When he had given up on the restraints on his hands and moved onto his feet he heard a cold laugh come from behind him._

_"It's pointless you know." The voice said matter of factly. And it was. His magic was completely sealed and his bindings were as tight as steel. There was no way out, but he wasn't about to show it._

_"It won't be pointless when I'm ripping your throat out after I free myself." he bit out angrily, surprised he hadn't been gagged. He thought about chanting a spell but then quickly remembered it was no use, his magic was still being blocked.  
_  
_Again a cold laugh filled the small room as he heard footsteps coming closer. "My what a spirit you have there. Lets see if we can't help you with that."_

_A shiver ran down Chris's spine as a feeling gripped him that he wasn't going to like what came next. When he heard a door open and close a few seconds later and several more demons clambered into the room he knew he had been right._

_"So, shall we begin?" The voice drawled as Chris heard the clattering of some very sharp metal instruments._

_XXX_

_For the next two weeks Chris suffered an unimaginable amount of pain. Chris was the soul recipient to every kind of torture imaginable. He had every inch of his body sliced in some way or another. His arms and legs had been flayed off several times and he thought his fingernails would never grow back again. At the start of each day Chris would always be given a slight healing potion so he wouldn't pass out too quickly, and then the torture would begin all over again._

_It was ironic that the very torture they used to make him suffer would serve him for the many years to come._

_For four days Chris never uttered a sound. He would not give them anything, not even the satisfaction of his screams. But on the fifth day when they began burning him he couldn't hold in everything anymore. Despite his best effort screams began tearing their way out of his mouth and filling the room with his agony. Still he never answered any of their questions. At the end of everyday the voice would return and ask him hundreds of questions. Where was Wyatt? What were his weaknesses? The voice would whisper sweet promises to him, things like if he answered their questions the pain would stop. Yet Chris never spoke a word. He would not betray his brother, the only family he had left. He also never believed the honey like lies the voice told him. They would never let him go, they would keep torturing him for every answer they could get. But it was more than that, they enjoyed torturing him more than any random victim. This was their revenge for every demon he had slayed._

_Chris was alone in the darkness. With only his thoughts and the never ending pain to keep him company. After the first day he began retreating into his own mind, no longer capable of looking at the mangled mess of a body that used to be his. His thoughts had begun to drive him mad, so he separated himself from them. He had to stop himself from understanding the horrors that were being done to him. He detached himself from the situation, his feelings, and the pain. It was the only way to keep himself sane._

_After two weeks Chris heard sounds he didn't recognize. It took him a moment to realize what the sounds were. They were screams. Screams that didn't belong to him. Someone had come for him, and he instantly knew who it was. Wyatt had come, his brother had come for him. The voice seemed to know who it was too because it began whispering to Chris._

_"It seems our time is up." It purred and then continued in an almost melancholy voice. "A pity. I was really beginning to enjoy our time together."_

_Chris spat in the direction of the voice and he heard a light chuckle as a reply. "See you around Chris." The voice drawled and then the room was filled with the unmistakable sound of someone shimmering away._

_It was moments later Chris heard Wyatt burst into the room. Instantly his restraints and blind fold were ripped from Chris for the first time in two weeks. Simultaneously Chris found himself in Wyatt's arms, feeling safe for the first time in months. He could feel the emotions radiating off of Wyatt. His furry at those who had done this to his brother, his guilt for allowing it to happen, and his relief that Chris was still alive. However Chris never saw the emotions play on Wyatt's features because the moment he found his way into his older brother's grasp he began loosing his grip on his consciousness. For the first time in weeks he truly relaxed and let everything go. He was safe. Wyatt had saved him._

_Only a single thought played in his mind before the world turned black. He had learned his lesson, never again would he let his guard down, except for when he was with his brother. From that moment on he would only trust his brother._

Shrugging off the memories that he had almost forgotten Chris reminded himself with a satisfied grin that he had never been caught like that again. Reminding himself further of all the things he had gained from the experience. Skills that had saved him on many occasions and a general who was surpassed by no one but himself. It had taken him months to hunt down the voice, but when he finally did find him he didn't kill him. Instead he made Kaleo a general in his army. He finally had a name for the voice, Kaleo, and he had quickly become one of his strongest generals.

When he had first learned Kaleo's name he had almost burst out laughing. _Was destiny taunting him? _Here was a man that tortured him for weeks and shared a name with his bastard father. Chris had made his decision right then. Kaleo would be his. He was already reluctant to waste such a powerful demon having experienced some of his skills first hand. Sure he was angry but he would not allow his fury to cost him something he wanted. It had taken Chris some time but he had made Kaleo into the perfect servant, all that was needed was a little _rehabilitating_. He had made sure Kaleo would never betray him.

Letting a smile rest on his features Chris finished changing, silently pondering what his second in command was up to now. Turning, Chris looked out the window and faced the new world he had found himself in. Wondering if he would run into Kaleo in this world, the demon was hundreds of years old after all, Chris allowed himself a light laugh.  
_  
This world is going to be fun._

With that thought Chris orbed to the underworld.

* * *

A/N: I know, I know. This was a very slow chapter, but I felt it needed to be done to show that my Chris _is _different and some of the reasons why. I thank everyone who stuck with it to the end. ^^


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